On Friday, August, 14th, your very own membership committee will be holding a happy hour at the Allen courtyard. Not only that, but I will be bringing a large CO2 tank that just happens to be rigged so that it can pump large quantities of high pressure gas into a sealed container, the end result of which is that any liquid in that container will get rather bubbly.
We plan on serving a variety of cocktails and non-alcoholic beverages that will all be carbonated on request at any desired pressure level (if you don't specify, I'll turn it all the way up). However, since we are breaking new ground in our efforts to serve novel bubbly liquids to you all, we would like to give you the opportunity to choose what is served. If you have ideas for drinks that you would like us to carbonate during the happy hour, please write them down at the link below:
In addition, there will also be a selection of solid snacks for your consumption. These will, for the most part, not be carbonated.
For an explanation as to why I have chosen this theme, see below:
Once upon a time I took a trip to France ,and while I was there, I discovered something wonderful. Something that would change my outlook on life and the way I will live for the rest of my existence: At every restaurant I went to, I was offered a simple choice: still or sparkling?
At first, when asked this, I was confused, as this was not a choice I had ever encountered before. As a result, I did what everyone does when they are confused, and ran away. I walked aimlessly through the streets of Paris for the next 3 hours, obsessing over what I had just heard. Still or sparkling? STILL OR SPARKLING? What did it mean? What physical aspect of material reality only manifested itself in two descriptions, one being lack of movement, and the other an optical phenomenon associated with rare gems or the presence of glitter?
Eventually, my curiosity got the better of me, and through sheer willpower, I overcame all instincts of self-preservation and walked into the next cafe that I saw. When I asked for a seat at a table, the waiter told me that I was to leave his house at once or he would call the police. Fearing for my safety at an establishment run by such a hostile staff, I promptly left, wrote a scathing review on Yelp, and tried again.
At the next location, I was greeted by a much more friendly fellow who promptly led me to a lovely cushioned booth, handed me a menu, and asked the question that had been rattling in my head for over 4 hours at this point: still or sparkling? I bit the bullet and gave the answer that had most perplexed me out of the two options available: sparkling. A few minutes later, the waiter arrived with what appeared to be a glass of water in his hand. It was clear upon inspection that something was gravely wrong, as some form of violent chemical reaction was taking place within this vessel of liquid. However, before I could warn the waiter of the danger, he walked away.
I was appalled. How many people had been given this tainted liquid, only to unknowingly drink it and meet a horrible fate? I approached the scenario with extreme caution, unpacking the acid protection equipment and pH strips that I carried with me at all times. After two hours of careful tests, the reaction taking place had seemed to run its course, and no sign of any activity was visible anymore. Unfortunately, after two hours of rigorous testing, all I had managed to do was pull myself deeper into the abyss of confusion that had instigated this endeavor to begin with. My 10 pages of notes clearly indicated that the glass held what was undoubtedly water, but the pH was slightly too low, and I was simply at a loss to explain how it was any different from something that I would consider benign to the point of even being drinkable.
So, against all of the safety protocols that been drilled into my head over many years, I called the waiter (who seemed rather annoyed at me for some reason), and requested a new glass of "sparkling". The waiter rolled his eyes (one star off the Yelp review there), and returned with a new vessel with familiar contents that seemingly wanted nothing but to escape the confines of its rigid prison. I gingerly removed my face mask, gloves, and apron, and then took a deep breath to steady my nerves. I sniffed the top of the glass...nothing. No smell whatsoever. Then, biting back tears, and thinking only of the mortal danger in which I was about to put myself, I raised the glass to my lips, and gingerly took a sip.
It was delicious.